Why Does it Hurt?
by ReyDelRey
Summary: After a usual banter in Roy's office, Ed doesn't make it a few feet from the Colonel's desk before chaos ensues. Now Roy must save Ed from something that the flame alchemist is completely unfamiliar with, by keeping the teen conscious and from causing further harm to himself. Parental!RoyxEd. Warning: Blood, light cursing, triggers. Rated T for warning. SICK/INJURED!Ed. Oneshot.


**Why does it hurt?**

A/N: Ok, so I've been, quite literally, spending HOURS of my day looking at, and adding to my favorites, the most angst fan fictions and deviant art images I can find.

Rather than go down the road of another self harm fic (which I love to do, but let's just not), I decided to focus on Ed's tendency to work too hard and rest very little.

May contain Brotherhood spoilers, dunno where to place this one in the timeline, so let's go with- Ed's 16. There.

This is, strictly, Parental!Roy. My yaoi fan girl heart kinda died a few years ago.

Warnings include: Blood, angst, and stuff.

* * *

! As for those who often skim through and skip paragraphs/etc, I would advice you don't. I have a very detailed way of writing, so something's happening in practically every sentence. If you skim, you will, and I assure you, get lost as to what's happening.

* * *

Edward practically slammed the stacks of thick folders onto Roy's desk, without uttering a word after waltzing in without announcement.

Roy, who sat behind said desk, left elbow propped on the polished oak, cheek resting against a loose fist, was in the middle of signing yet another document before his shift was over. He lifted the pen from the paper quickly, to avoid scribbling a mess, and stared at the pile laid before him, before raising his dark eyes to look up at irate golden orbs.

A moment of tense silence followed, until finally Edward stuffed his gloved hands into his slack pockets and continued to glare. "There, finished all the paperwork you wanted before my deadline." He nodded towards the stack, voice curt with impatience.

With a sigh, Roy rested the pen on the desk and sat back into his seat, glaring up at Ed. "Don't act like it's my fault you've been slacking on what's due." He gently swiveled in his office chair. "It's your responsibility to write out your reports, and my job to review them. You honestly can't expect me to do _all_ your work for you."

Edward scoffed. "You don't do much but sit behind that desk of yours and bark orders-"

"You're out of line, speaking to me with such a tone, Fullmetal." Roy interrupted, glare intact but tone calm, as he leaned forward in his chair.

They held eye contact for a moment, as if daring one another to give them a reason to throw punches.

But after another moment of silence, Roy sighed and leaned back into his seat, staring at the stacks of paper before him. "That's how this works. I, your commanding officer, tell you, the subordinate, what to do, where to go, and when to report." He crossed his arms against his chest. "If you'd like, I can restrict your free-time and make you work twice as hard."

At this threat, Edward visibly tensed, but kept his attitude and composure in check while glaring down the older man.

"Look, Fullmetal," Roy calmed, sighing in defeat, deflated in his repeated efforts to straighten out the boy. "You honestly have to respect authority. If you had waltzed into the room of any other officer in my ranking, you'd be sacked, or worse, publicly humiliated. Just because I give you missions and tasks that focus on your hunt for the stone, doesn't mean I'll tolerate rude behavior."

Edward tsk'ed, looked away, a small annoyed smirk on his lips. "You sound like a frikin father-"

"And that's the thing, I'm **not**." Roy practically snapped, glare returning.

The definitive statement, and manner in which it was said, made Ed look back to him, a slight expression of surprise on his face, though the teen was trying his most to conceal the shock, and puzzled, as the words effected him in some way.

Roy continued. "I'm **not** your dad, Fullmetal. I'm your superior. I shouldn't be telling a kid of your age how to behave, and treat those older than you with respect." He waved a hand in Ed's direction. "You're old enough to know how to act. Hell, even _Alphonse_ knows how to behave, and he's 15." Roy ignored the odd expression on the teens face. "You're the eldest, show some respect, stop acting like a stubborn child."

Again, silence consumed the large office. Only it wasn't tense, or threatening, but instead awkward.

For some reason, though Roy wasn't expecting it, whatever he had said had made Ed relax.

The teen was no longer standing stiff, or had a cocky expression. Instead he looked as if though he understood the rudeness of his actions, and physically relaxed, face calm with no malice.

Edward rubbed the back of his neck with his flesh arm, nodding towards the stack of papers. "Well, I guess," He paused, his movements awkward as he abruptly stopped to point towards and turn towards the door behind him. "I guess I should go now that I've done what I was supposed to do." He said with such an aloof tone, it confused the older man.

Dark eyes minutely hid behind slightly narrowed, lids, as Roy observed and tried to assess the sudden change in the rooms atmosphere.

But instead of pushing it, he allowed his eyes to relax into their usual stoic expression, as he sat up to continue where he left off in his paperwork, mournfully glancing at the bundle of reports he had to work on now, thanks to Ed's tardiness. "Dismissed, Fullmetal." Roy stated, practically mumbling in disinterest, as he stared down at the document before him.

However, just as the pen was about to sign along the line below, Roy jolted to a halt, his head slightly lifting in reaction, eyes momentarily widening in surprise at the sound of something falling, and partially hitting the coffee table situated between the two couches facing each other, a few feet away from his desk.

Roy looked up, the loud noise having jumbled his thoughts enough that he could, yet couldn't, grasp the cause of such a loud, wood splintering, sound.

But as soon as he spotted the origin, he slammed both hands against the desks surface, and pushed himself to a stand, seemingly glaring, though it was an expression he reserved for concern.

"Fullmetal!" He shouted, rounding his desk in long strides to reach the teen who now lay on his side, in between the coffee table and couch.

Roy didn't really know what to do. He wasn't trained in the art of militia medical tact's, but he did know that a fainting spell, and the new bleeding split on Edward's forehead, wasn't good.

"Fullmetal!" He tried again, unsure if he should touch the boy or move him, pick him up and rest him along the couch. "Hey, come on, respond dammit!" He shouted, but the teen didn't react.

Cursing under his breath, Roy hovered over the teen and shoved the coffee table away, to allow more space for both of them. "Fullmetal," He placed a hand over Ed's mouth and nose, waiting for the feeling of warm breath against his flesh. It was there, and wasn't faint, but rather, it was becoming erratic.  
"Edward, come on." Roy whined in frustration, like an impatient man held up at work, which was basically what was happening.

Trying to avoid any further injuries, Roy gently placed his ear against the teens chest. The boys heartbeat wasn't unsteady, and he could practically hear the stretch of Ed's lungs against his rib cage with every strong and quick breath.

Raising his head, Roy stared down at Ed, dark eyes darting along the small figure.

The only injury seemed to be along the blonds forehead, yet, Roy didn't know if during the last mission, Ed had sustained something internal, or perhaps a wound hidden under clothing.

Shaking his head, Roy silently decided that he would not strip the boy. He was of no medical jurisdiction, so assessing the situation any further would be a waste of time and effort.

Quickly, Roy stood to his feet and raced towards the phone on his desk.

But before he picked up the phone, he heard a startled, pained gasp that was loud enough to keep Roy from continuing his task. The colonel stood still, now wondering if an emergency call for medic was necessary now.

"Ugh," Were Ed's unceremonious starting words, as he further rolled onto his side to push himself up into a sitting position, wincing as he did so. "Dammit," He whispered, teeth clenched in pain. "What happened? Why am I on the ground?…"

Roy stood still at his desk, halfway turned towards the phone, while his upper body faced the teen, who now held himself up rather weakly, his breathing now seemingly in control. "Fullmetal?" He started with a tone that even made him feel embarrassed, so he continued with the stoic manner in which he was recognized for. "Are you all right? Do I need to call in a medical team? Do you need to go to the hospital-"

"Agh!" Edward interrupted, putting out his flesh hand. "Would you just shut up already? You're asking too many questions!" He snapped, retrieving his hand to rest it against his stomach. "My head hurts. It's nothing. I just didn't sleep well." He explained, but cringed as soon as he finished and doubled over, hand pressing against his abdomen.

Roy reacted immediately, turning to face the teen as he took a step forward. "Fullmeta-"

"I said it's nothing!" Ed yelled, though he sounded more embarrassed than angry, as he glared up at Roy.

Roy stopped upon the interruption, the stoic concerning glare back in place as he silently observed.

"Just some-" Ed breathed out and cringed again, bowing his head slightly as he rode out another pang of pain. "Ugh, why does it hurt so much…?"

Roy tried in his approach again. "What hurts, exactly? Just your stomach? And your head hurts because you managed to hit it against the coffee table when you fainted."

Raising his head to look at Roy, Edward seemed confused, and after a moment of registering what he had just been told, he began to slowly raise his glove covered automail arm, hand prodding against the throbbing on his forehead. "I.. fainted?" He asked, wincing at the unintended pressure against the gash along his skin.

Roy's brow furrowed, confused, though not entirely skeptical. "Yes. You were on your way out. You only seem to have had made it a few feet from my desk before you, well," He nodded towards the coffee table. "Fainted." He finished, as if it wasn't catching on within the teens head yet.

Edward rested both palms on the ground beside him, not bothering to stand, as he stared and searched the ground.

"Fullmetal?" Roy asked, wondering what the teen was looking for.

Upon hearing his code name, Edward looked up, brows raised and eyes somewhat wide, as if caught off guard. "Hm?" He asked, confused. "Oh, yeah, I should leave." He stated, genuinely sounding like a guest who overstayed their visit.

But Roy was quick to intervene, as he held out an arm, hand ready to push the teen down, or hold him back to keep him from leaving. "Oh no you don't." He sighed, managing to reach Ed as the blond came to a stand. "Sit down."

Brows furrowed, confused and irritated, Edward did as told, and sat on the couch closest to him.

Roy rubbed the back of his neck and looked around the room, before holding out his arms and letting them fall to his sides. "Look, I know you hate hospitals-"

At the word, now pissed, Edward came to a stand and nearly turned away completely as he began to walk, but Roy held firm, placing a gripping hand around the boys flesh shoulder.

"I didn't give you permission to leave-"

"I'm not going to a frikin hospital!" Edward shouted, shoving the other mans hand off. "I'm just tired! And this graze is nothing, I'll take care of it at the dorms-"

"You **_fainted_** ," Roy emphasized, glaring at the stubborn boy.

Edward started to take his leave again. "Because I'm **_tired_**!" He repeated, clearly annoyed. "And I still am. So just let me go back to my room to sleep, alright?!"

Now angry as well, Roy shook his head. If the teen was going to act like a stubborn child, why bother keeping him around for the afternoon until some medics arrived? The man could only imagine what would ensue. Chaos, more yelling, arguing.

Suddenly such an outcome dawned to him, and he honestly had no tolerance to deal with it.

Roy turned away and walked back towards his desk, waving a dismissing hand towards Edward. "Fine, do whatever you want." He muttered, irritated, as he made his way around his desk, standing by his office chair. "I expect to see you well rested tomorrow morning, O-900-sharp. Do you understand?"

Edward all but seemed to care much or at all as he wafted a hand towards his superior. "Yeah yeah, whatever. 9 o'clock. Got it." He mumbled, turning as he walked towards the door.

"I'm not kidding Fullmetal, this is the last time I tolerate your insubordination-"

"I got it!" Edward spun, facing the older man, annoyed. "Aright? I got it." He turned away, making his way out. "Geez. Bastard." He added under his breath.

Roy stood straight, glaring at the teens retreating back. "What was that?"

Ed tossed a hand over his shoulder, already passed his limit for being bothered for the day. "Nothing! Geez." He shouted, thought knowing the volume in response was unnecessary in order for his lie to reach the Colonel's ears.

Edward was about to repeat the insult as he reached the doors, but a sudden onslaught of coughs made him stop dead in his tracks. "Ah shit," He cursed under his breath as he hunched slightly, flesh arm pressed against his abdomen.

Roy, who was muttering some curse words himself, was nearly about to take a seat, until he looked up to see the state in which Edward was in. "Fullmetal?" He called out, testing.

Edward held himself up, automail hand pressing against the door as he continued to breath heavily and cough, flesh arm never leaving his stomach. "Yeah, I'm fine, just-… Just give me a secon-!" He didn't finish, as another coughing fit nearly brought him to his knees, his flesh hand flying up to cover his mouth.

Now Roy was concerned, the sound of Edwards coughing not sounding normal. Though Roy wasn't a man to get sick often, and was pretty strict about the health of his men, he was familiar with the sound of certain coughs provoked by certain reasons.

Edward's coughing didn't sound allergy, cold, or flu related. They weren't whooping or dry.

In fact, each cough sounded more wet with each release, as if Ed was spitting up a beverage.

After the fit was over, and Ed stood against the door, knees practically shaking, Roy could see as the boy pull his hand away and stare at it. Ed seemed frozen for a second, then began to wipe at his lips. "Ah, shit…" Ed muttered, loud enough for the other man to hear, as he stared at his gloved flesh hand.

Slowly, the teen turned to face the older, alert, man. "Uh, Colonel?" He meekly stated. "I think there's something wrong."

Roy immediately spotted what the boy was referring to, as he held out a shaky hand, blood splatter covering the white gloves surface, seeping into the material.

As soon as Ed's legs gave out and he slid to his knees, Roy quickly reacted by running out from behind his desk, encircling it, and rushing towards Edward. Once close enough, practically sliding, the older man landed on his knees, situated in front of the blond, who swayed slightly, pain glazed eyes towards the ground.

"Fullmetal?! What's wrong?!" He shouted, hands shooting out to grip the boys shoulders to keep him steady. Roy bowed his head lightly, to get a good look at Ed's expression "Hey, can you hear me?!"

Edward winced, arms flinching in attempts to move and comfort the source of pain, but instead they swayed limply at his sides, as he looked up towards Roy. "Stop… Yelling…" He weakly whispered, brows knotted.

He seemed angry, but Roy knew it was because he was in pain. It was evident in the sheen of sweat that was gathering.

Roy held on tighter as the boys frame seemed to weaken. "Hey, don't pass out on me, alright?" He demanded, mindful of the possibility of concussion, as the boys bobbed and continued to hang. Roy bowed his own head to make and keep eye contact. "You need to tell me, right now, especially if you're about to faint- where does it hurt?"

For a moment, perhaps losing to whatever was hurting him, Ed seemed confused and lost, as he looked into Roy's eyes. He let his head fall a few times, but gathered himself as soon as he recalled the question. "My…" He paused, weakly lifting his left hand to press against his abdomen. "Stomach…" He finished with a grunt as another wave hit him, his body going slack.

"Hey, stay with me." Roy quickly demanded, pushing the boy back up as the teens body slacked again. He eyed the blood spot on the carpet by the door, black eyes trailing to the spatter against the oak frame Ed was leaning against moments ago. "I know you're in pain, but I don't why it's causing it. I do know that moving you when your stomach hurts isn't pleasant, but I need to lay you down on one of the couches behind me."  
Roy began to explain, hoping that Edward was hearing him. "But you need to stay awake, you got that? Once I lay you down, I need to make a call. Do you understand that?" He asked, craning his head slightly as Ed's head bobbed downwards. "Hey, Edward, do you understand what I've just said?"

As if though by miracle or reason, Ed responded, some alertness returning to his golden eyes upon hearing his name. He looked straight into Roy's eyes, gaze unwavering. After a moment, he nodded in understanding, and braced himself for movement.

With a nod, Roy removed one hand from the boys shoulders, the other still keeping the teen up, and stood slightly hunched. With some effort, not prepared for the weight of the automail, Roy managed, though awkwardly, to rest his forearms behind Edwards knees and neck, picking him up with a grunt.

Any other day, he would get lip from the teen if he were lucid enough to realize he was being carried bridal style. But Roy was thankful that at this moment, Edward didn't seem to care, as his golden glazed eyes stared past Roy and towards the high ceiling.

During the slow trip towards the couch, Ed's breathing was shallow.

At first, Roy thought that Edward was struggling to breathe, but then realized that the teen was controlling the amount and speed, trying to ease the pain in his stomach.

"Almost there." Roy stated, in hopes of relaxing the teen. Once his knees hit the couch, he looked down towards Ed's face. "Alright, I'm gonna lay you down now, which means your gonna be stretched out. I wouldn't advise curling into yourself, so bear with it for a moment, alright?"

For a second, Ed seemed to hesitate with the instructions, but then quickly responded with a few nods, visibly gritting his teeth.

Just as both predicted, the movement wasn't pleasant.

As soon as Roy began to lay the teen down, Ed was clawing at the Colonel's arms, trying to hold himself up, however, even sitting didn't seem like an option.

"Edward," Roy looked down at the boy, who had noticeably paled.

The blond, resting his flesh arm against his stomach, as the automail covered his lips, opened his eyes to look at Roy.

The older man took that as an answer. "Are you going to be alright for a moment? I need to make that call now." He asked.

Edward slowly slid his automail gloved hand from his lips, the blood that had stained them along the with his chin, now staining the material. "I think…" He paused, swallowing hard as he closed on eyes, glaring through the pain. "I think I'm gonna… Be sick-"

It happened immediately, as if on cue.

Edward leaned over the edge of the couch and began to heave, awful gags, his flesh arm tightly pressing against his stomach as a frighteningly large amount of bloody vomit escaped his gaping lips, eyes wide in pain and panic.

A few more gags followed, as Ed continued to throw up blood. Though with each release, the stream became smaller.

"Shit!" Roy cursed, not daring to touch the boy, avoiding the possibility of painfully positioning him. Without hesitation, he turned towards the desk and ran towards the phone. "Hang on, **don't** pass out on me!" He shouted, though it sounded more like an order, rather than words of concern. As soon as he gripped the phone, he pulled it away and held it to his ear, other hand frantically spinning the number to the on-site medics team.

Roy watched as Ed slowly leaned back onto the couch cushions, wiping his mouth to rid of the blood and bile, tired and shaking. However, despite his efforts to remove the blood from his chin, it proved useless as some remained.

With a heavy sigh, Edward once again lay on his back, left arm still resting against his stomach, as his right arm hung loosely over the edge of the couch. His glazed eyes stared at the ceiling, no longer expressing pain, though his breathing remained erratic.

Roy immediately recognized that expression. It was that of a person on the verge of passing out. "Dammit!" He cursed under his breath, annoyed and frustrated in acknowledging the fact that he couldn't do much. He wanted to go check on Ed, or keep him alert, but he was to be stationed away, patiently waiting for the ringing to end.

As soon as a voice responded, Roy looked down towards the desk, away from Edward, trying to maintain calm. "This is Colonel Roy Mustang, code name Flame Alchemist! Requesting immediate medical dispatch to my office. This is a medical emergency!" He quickly said in a demanding tone, though he didn't mask the edge of panic he tried to contain. "No, it's not for me, it's for my subordinate, Fullmetal." He grit his teeth as they tried to assess the situation further over the phone. "Look, I don't know what's wrong with him, alright?! He's coughing and vomiting an alarming amount of blood." He was cut off by the medic on the phone, but the groaning slowly leaving Ed's lips caught his attention.

Ed's eyes didn't leave their gaze towards the ceiling, as his brows knotted in confusion. "Colonel?" He breathed out, the call sounding confused and on the brink of panic.

Roy looked away and glared towards nothing as he gripped the phone against his ear. "Dammit, stop talking and send a medical team to my office, now!" He yelled, slamming the phone back into place, hanging up.

He looked over his shoulder, fuming, though calming immediately upon seeing the boys behavior.

"Colonel, it hurts." He whispered through quick breaths. "I can't…" He cringed, legs bending as his knees started to bend slightly, as if wanting, but failing, to curl up against the pain. "I feel cold." He opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling, breathing still erratic. "It hurts." He whined, brows furrowed in confusion as he grit his teeth. "Why does it hurt, Colonel? What's…" He swallowed hard. "What's wrong with me?"

Roy made his way to Ed, lowering himself to sit on his knees by the teens face. "You're gonna be fine, Ed. Help's on the way. They'll figure out why you're hurting so much."

Ed let his head fall to the side in order to look into Roy's eyes. For a moment he simply seemed to regard his superior, but then that expression of confusion returned. "Why are you doing that?" He whispered, eyes darting across the older mans controlled face.

Roy's head backed slightly at the question. "Doing what? Saving your life?"

Ed shook his head from side to side slightly. "No, no." He whined, though not because Roy didn't catch on, but instead due to the pulsing pain. "Why are you calling me 'Ed', 'Edward'. That... Why-…?" He seemed to want to finish his question, but gave up.

This time, Roy seemed ultimately caught off. A brow furrowed and he slowly answered. "Because that's your name?" He responded, now even more concerned with the neurological state of the boy.

The blond rolled his eyes, looking away. "Yeah," He breathed. "What… I _mean_ is that… You hardly ever… Call me by name…" He explained, eyes resting onto Roy's again, brows furrowed in confusion as he loudly huffed, trying to gather his breathing, finding it difficult to talk.

Now it was Roy's turn to look away, though not ashamed, just surprised with what the teen had just said. Was it really that rare of Roy to address the boy by his name? Though it wasn't uncommon. He hardly ever referred to anyone by their first name, even those close to him. However, Hughes, Riza, Havoc, etc, those were their actual last names. Though Ed was the only State Alchemist under his command, he never referred to the boy as 'Elric', instead using the teens given code name at all times.

Roy wanted to ask if the boy would rather he call him by his last name instead of Fullmetal or simple 'Ed', but kept it to himself, not wanting to make the kid talk much.

When Roy didn't respond, Ed looked away, lids tightly shut as he cringed through another wave of pain and nausea.

Edward held up his automail arm, in attempts to push the Colonel away. "I think I'm gonna… Puke again." He hissed through gritted teeth.

This made Roy immediately tense. "No, Fullmetal. I know it'll be a hard demand to follow, but don't throw up again. You're losing blood that way, and you need to stay awake."

When the boy didn't seem to hear him, Roy grabbed at the automail hand that was weakly trying to push the older man away.

"Edward," He tried in a calm soothing voice. "Listen to me, you need to control this. Help's on the way." Remembering the medical team, he glared at the doors, taking a mental note of addressing their slow response. "You can't pass out. Otherwise they might not know how to treat whatever's wrong with you."

Trying his best to keep himself from yelling, Ed grit his teeth and gently balled his automail hand within Roy's grasp. "Alright, alright." He whispered, tone irate.

Any other moment, Roy would have hated that attitude, but right now, it brought him comfort to hear Ed holding himself up in some way or the other.

However, the flame alchemist didn't fail to notice the way the automail seem to loosen its grip, starting to go slack in his hold. "Ed?" Roy looked over to the voice, tone sounding cautious.

"I said…" Edward whispered, breathing somewhat slower, seemingly in control. "I said 'alright'… I won't… pass…"

Edward immediately went limp, his automail becoming heavier in Roy's grasp.

"Fullmetal?!" Roy shouted. "Edward?!" He leaned forward, discarding the automail hand, unsettled as, from the corner of his eyes, he watched its limp metal form fall and hit against the couch's side. "Hey," He hovered over the boy, reaching a hand up to gently slap him against the cheek. "Hey, come on, dammit, **wake up**!"

Upon hearing the chaos inside, or perhaps because the older alchemist didn't hear the door knocking, 4 men dressed in medical scrubs burst and rushed in, two men grabbing hold of Roy's arm, pulling him to his feet, dragging him a few feet away, trying to distance the Colonel from Edward.

"Edward!" Roy called out, watching as the boy became more pale, a slow steady stream of red leaving the corner of his lips.

He didn't realize the two men, acting as a wall between Roy and the teen, were holding him back and talking to him. When the Colonel realized, his panicked breathing slowed, and he glanced towards one of the medics, before looking at Ed as he tuned them in.

They were just repeating the same thing, asking that he stay calm, that he keep his distance so that they could do their job.

Roy watched, helplessly, as one of the two paramedics that crouched next to Edward tried to gently rouse him, but shook his head, looking towards the other paramedic, stating that the boy wasn't waking.

The other paramedic looked to Roy, as the other assisting him position the gurney on the ground closer to the couch. "How long has he been out?" He asked, calmly.

Roy shook his head, blinking a few times, trying to regain his composure. "Uh, just a few seconds actually, before you guys came in."

The paramedic who had asked him nodded, and looked back to Ed, opening his lids, watching for pupil dilation, then continued on to check pulse, since the teen was clearly breathing. He looked over to the other paramedic and nodded, motioning his hand from the body and towards the gurney. "Let's lift him."

The two men who blockaded Roy moved away and towards the other two, patiently standing in wait as the two paramedics began to move Ed, one resting his palms under the teens upper back, the other wrapping his hands around the ankle.

Roy felt breathless. "He's got… Automail." He warned them, and watched as they firmed their grips as they lifted Ed off the couch.

They struggled at first, but the other two men on standby were quick to help as they collectively lowered Ed onto the gurney.

Each man gripped one of the four metal poles sticking out at each end, two at the head, two at the feet, and counted as they all lifted together.

Roy watched as they made their way out, without much of a struggle, rushing out the parted doors and into the hall, calling out for others to clear a path.

He stood in his office where they left him, dumbfounded, lost, unsure of what to do, but overall, worried. Cursing under his breath, he fished out the keys from his pocket and left his office, closing the doors behind him and locking them, before placing the keys back into his pocket and rushing after the medical team, already long ahead of him down the hall.

* * *

In the end they had to take Edward to a local hospital, since the on-grounds medical site didn't provide much of an intensive care routine. However, the hospital still belonged to Central's militia unit, it just wasn't on HQ.

By the time Roy got to the hospital, after explaining to a concerned Riza as to why he needed her car, having left his at home, Edward was already in surgery.

All he could do now was wait for someone to tell him how Ed was doing, or where the boy was resting.

It felt like an entire day, but was only a few hours passed midnight, until a lab coat clad older man walked out of the ICU swinging doors and towards the waiting room. The doctor briefly glanced around the crowd before looking down at his board. "Colonel Roy Mustang?" He called out, looking up patiently.

Roy immediately stood, though tried to keep his expression stoic and professional. "That would be me." He managed to finish, before another voice loudly made his presence known.

Looking over his shoulder, Roy spotted Alphonse rushing down the hall and towards the waiting room, not missing the way the crowds mutters grew silent, or the way the doctor stared at the suit of armor.

"Colonel Mustang!" Alphonse stated in mock surprise, no doubt associating recognition so that the suspicious doctor wouldn't turn him down or keep him from visiting his sibling. "How's brother? Is he alright?! Sorry I just got here, Lieutenant Hawkeye told me just now."

Roy put out a hand towards the tall frame. "Calm down, Alphonse." He looked towards the doctor, presenting him with his hand. "He was just about to inform me." He explained, feeling a sudden knot of fear tighten in his chest.

The doctor seemed taken aback for a moment, but then nodded and looked down to his chart. "Right. Mr. Elric, is in the clear." He announced, giving both Roy and Al a moment to register the settling news. "He was fortunate enough to have been in your presence, and close to a medical response team."

A weight seem to lift off Roy's shoulders, rendering him silent as he tried to figure out why he felt such a sensation.

It was Al that instead continued the conversation. "What happened? What was wrong with him?" He asked, though calm, a hint of concern laced his words.

"Mr. Elric had a peptic stomach ulcer. It's very common, at its initial stages, the person experiences stomach cramps, pulsing pains in the upper or middle stomach area, nausea, heartburn and the like. It's caused by a digestive imbalance of stomach acid. It usually goes away on its own, but if the individual doesn't treat it, the sore along the stomach lining becomes quite problematic, and might tear a hole along the wall. Which is what happened here."

Roy seemed lost, but Al comprehended everything. "Ulcer?" Al echoed. "But, how? I wouldn't think brother has problems with his digestion, or at least enough to cause the stomach acid to react in such a threatening way."

The doctor nodded. "It was due to a bacteria, H. pylori. The victim of this rather common bacteria could have it for some time before it becomes a problem. Most cases go unnoticed and result in nothing. Unfortunately, in Mr. Elric's case, it resulted in an untreated ulcer that eventually, well, as I said, created a hole along the stomachs lining." He paused, looking at Roy, who stared at the ground. "Which is why he was vomiting blood." He finished, and Roy looked up to meet his eyes, nodding after a moment.

Al leaned forward lightly, eager. "Can we see him?"

The doctor seemed to consider it for a moment, but then nodded. "He's no longer in critical condition, but is rather weak. When he came in, his problem wasn't just the rupture, but other factors aside from the injury to his head. Tell me, Colonel Mustang, has Mr. Elric been eating well? Sleeping enough? Has he been highly stressed?" The older man asked, curious eyes trained on Roy.

But instead of keeping eye contact or responding, Roy looked towards Alphonse.

Al understood. "Uh," He started, not knowing what to say exactly, but trying to get the doctors focus on him. "I'm his brother." He explained, waiting as the doctor nodded before continuing. "I don't really keep track of brothers meals, since he usually goes out to eat," He didn't mention it was to keep the younger Elric from seeing the food, perhaps out of guilt. "As for sleep and stress..." He paused, glancing down at the Colonel.

Roy looked to him, waiting. "Well, Alphonse? Go on."

"Well," Alphonse didn't want to say, but he knew this was no time to keep word of secrets, and acknowledged that the doctor had other patients to tend to, practically feeling the glares on his back from the impatient crowd in the waiting room behind him. "He hasn't been sleeping much. He usually sleep for an hour, every 48 hours. It's not that he's always busy with military assigned work, he's just always researching. In the past, he'd usually pass out from exhaustion, but as of late, his insomnia's gotten worse. I assumed he seemed stress because of fatigue…"

The doctor nodded. "That could have been the case for stress as well, along with undernourishment." He nodded, glancing at the two. "Now, if you two could follow me."

Before following, as Al took a step forward, Roy put out his left arm, stopping him.

Confused, Al glanced down at the arm before looking to Roy.

Looking up towards Al's helmet, the older man nodded.

Al immediately recognized it as a silent gesture of thanks. Though for what entirely, Al wasn't sure. The idea of giving away slight information of their living quarter lifestyle did cross his mind, but didn't seem to be the definitive answer.

However, it was what Roy had thanked him for.

Putting his arm down, Roy stared ahead as he followed after the doctor, Al eventually walking a few paces behind.

* * *

After walking down a long corridor of rooms, they finally reached the ICU unit reserved for high ranking officers, which were usually the Alchemists.

Before letting them in, the doctor stood in front of the closed, blue, steel door, peeking inside the small glass, then turning to look at the pair. "He's still asleep. We don't usually allow visitors when the patient is in recovery after such a short time out of surgery. But clearly, I can't argue against your ranks, and Mr. Elric is no longer in much danger now that we're treating the cause of this incident. I would advise patience, before waking him forcefully." He held out a hand.

Roy shook it first, then Al.

The doctor nodded, a small smile on his lips, before he walked around them and continued on with his own job.

Roy was the first to walk towards the door, but before he opened it, he held the knob.

Al, confused, watched the door, glanced towards the knob, then looked towards Roy. "Colonel Mustang?"

The older man didn't look up towards the young boys helmet. "We'll talk quietly among ourselves once we get inside. I will ask you a few questions, and you need to be absolutely honest with me." He looked up to Al. "Do you understand me, Alphonse? No secrets, no lying."

For a long silent moment, as if considering the demand, Al finally nodded, staring at Roy as the raven haired man looked away and focused on the door, turning the knob.

Upon opening the door, Roy was happy to see that the boy had clearly improved. He wasn't breathing erratically, there was no gleam of swear, no blood smeared on his lips, and the color in his slightly tan skin had returned.

However, this didn't look like and improvement to Al, who wasn't in the Colonel's office at the time of event.

Alphonse gasped, and took a step forward, arm out, hand hesitant to touch his brother.

"Trust me Al," Roy nodded towards Ed. "He's looking and doing much better than he was earlier today." He didn't mention how, in the state that Edward was in, Roy thought the teen was going to die in his office. Walking towards a set of chairs by a window, Roy took a seat, then looked to Al. "Alphonse." The boy looked to him. He motioned towards the empty seat beside him. "Sit."

The clatter of armor sounded too heavy within the small room as Al made his way to sit next to the Colonel.

Roy waited until the armor managed to sit in the chair, surprising fitting, before he started. "Earlier you mentioned that you weren't around when your brother ate. Does he do this from time to time, or every day?"

Al seemed confused by the question, but it slowly dawned to him, his head falling slightly. "I think he doesn't want to eat around me, because it makes him feel guilty." He paused, but when Roy didn't speak, he continued. Resting a hand onto his chest plate, he looked up to a sleeping Ed. "I don't have my human senses, as you can guess, Colonel. I can't feel touch, smell, sleep or eat. At first brother was afraid, though gradually he understood."

A small laugh escape Al as he looked to his legs, and then he continued, looking up towards Ed again. "I mean, it's not hard to understand that a suit of armor doesn't need any of that. At first, he didn't mind eating around me. But then one day, he found my journal." He paused, hesitant.

Roy kept his stern gaze, nodding. "Go on."

"Well," Al responded immediately, looking to his knees, thumbs fidgeting nervously, or perhaps embarrassed. "You see, I used to take a lot of notes about our journeys. I mean, I still do. But then I started to list down all the foods I would want to make and eat when I get my body back…"

Roy slowly looked away from Al and towards Ed.

A heavy silence filled the room.

To anyone else, it may sound innocent. But to those who understood the implications, it weighed down against ones chest. Even Alphonse seemed to understand why it wasn't so simple a gesture or hobby.

In jotting these things down, it meant absolution. That Al, 100% believes, he will get his human body back.

However, after years of misleads and sacrifices, bloodshed and tragedy, the window of opportunity was slowly closing.

Roy didn't completely doubt that Ed would accomplish his goal of saving his younger brother, but he also didn't completely believe that it could be achieved with all that was happening.

It was a dark and depressing thought, when looking at an innocent, simple journal of things to do once the journey was over, when the journey had seemingly yet begun, and the road yet traveled seemed impossible to reach or continue further down.

Al continued after the long silence, voice quiet. "He had asked me, in his light mood, what it was, and I explained to him. He didn't react the way I thought he would. Instead, brother grinned and said that it was a plan. We would get there someday. After that, I never saw him eat, or even drink, around me."

Roy nodded, staring Ed down. "Could it be… Al…" He hesitated. "That your brother was starving himself?"

Al practically jolted off his seat. "What? No way. Edward's not like that, Colonel. Besides, it was the bacteria-"

"Yes, it was the bacteria that caused the ulcers, I know, I'm not that medically dim. But even with the bacteria, his stomach lining shouldn't have ruptured. I've seen cases like this before, in Ishval. Most of our men obtained the bacteria through unwashed crops or poorly prepared food. As a result of the food poisoning that came along with it, they wouldn't eat for days to avoid an ill reaction."

Roy shifted in his seat. "After awhile, they were able to live with the starvation and ignore the hunger pains, however, the bacteria had caused ulcers after a few weeks of poor nourishment, as they chewed on tobacco, or anything, to kill the desire to eat, tricking the stomach into preparing for digestion. Eventually, it became too much of a stress, and many would nearly, or did, die."

Alphonse's helmet made a small nose as it looked away from Roy and back towards his brother. "He would always say that he ate out…"

"Though I highly doubt that." Roy immediately responded, voice stable as he recalled the events over the past few months. "I'm in charge of his spending. I get the bill every week. You two have no other money other than military issued. Your brother's been spending more money on books."

Al looked back towards Roy. "Then if you knew he wasn't buying food for months, why didn't you-"

"I assumed he was eating in the cafeteria. Those who hold an issued argent State Alchemist pocket watch, don't need to pay for meals if they present a stub of recent travels. I assumed, rather than going to buy food to prepare, or eat at some restaurant, that he just ate at HQ. Those don't go on record unless you order more than one meal, to control rations." Roy glanced towards Al. "I thought that, with all the books he'd been buying, he was on HQ grounds, shifting from the cafeteria to eat before heading to Central's library."

Al looked away, defeated, no longer finding reason to blame the man. "Oh."

"As for the sleep, I don't think he's holding out for your sake. He knew you couldn't sleep or eat before he found and read your journal. Though, being aware of you never sleeping, he always slept. My guess is that now he's even more motivated to find the stone, and a way to return you to your body."

Al hunched slightly. "Oh." He simply said.

Roy looked up. "It's not your fault, Alphonse. We both know how stubborn Fullmetal can be."

A silence followed, Roy keeping an eye on the younger sibling, concerned that his words of comfort had failed the desired affect. But Al eventually nodded. "Yeah." He answered, though with a false hint of humor in response to Roy's attempt of a joke.

"Could you guys keep it down?" Edward's groggy voice eventually swept in, as he moved slightly, though winced in response, turning his head away from his visitors.

Al's head shot up, as did his body, as he walked towards the bed. "Brother!" He shouted, and again, Edward winced at the loud voice. "Oh, sorry. I was just…" He stopped, and pitifully bowed his head.

Ed turned his head towards the standing suit of armor, looking into those downcast red orbs emitted from the helmets sockets, Smiling, he lightly slapped Al's armor with the back of his left hand. "Hey, don't sweat it. I'm alright."

"No, you are **not** alright, Fullmetal." Came the stern voice of Roy, who, upon Al taking a step to the side for Ed to see, was still sitting in his chair. Roy's arms were crossed against his chest, a stern gaze glaring down the teen. "You could have died because of your stupidity."

Ed groaned, annoying, tired, not wanting to deal with this in his current state, as looked away. " _C'mon_ Colonel Bastard, I really don't wanna hear it-"

"Well **tough** , because you are going to listen to me. And I don't care if your brother has to hear me as I chew you out for being such an idiot."

Returning his gaze, he glared at Roy. "I didn't _do_ anything wrong. I turned in the papers like you said! I left, and then things that were out of my control happened! So stop blaming me-"

"It's your fault you're here, you realize that, don't you?" Roy interrupted, yet kept his still in his seat. "You were coughing, throwing up, blood. You were passing out. You couldn't even walk, let alone sit!"

Ed scoffed. "Are you gonna guilt trip me now? That's real mature."

"I don't want to hear about maturity from _**you**_. Especially with the act that you just pulled. Tell me Edward, when's the last time you had a good, filling meal?"

Edward visible tensed.

Al put a hand out, to calm the man. "Colonel, please don't-"

"No, Al, he has to listen. He has to acknowledge what he did wrong. Otherwise, we'll end up here again, or worse, your brother won't pull through and will rot away in box six feet under."

The idea seemed to put Al at rest, and the suit of armor froze for a moment before settling, silently standing beside the bed.

Edward's eyes glanced from Roy to Al, and he honestly seemed to want Al to step in again, but when his brother didn't, he huffed and crossed his arms against his chest. "I've been eating at restaurants by the dorms-"

"Wrong answer." Roy interrupted.

Ed slammed his fists against the mattress. "Oh yeah, and how would you know?! You stalking me now?!" He spat.

This time, however, it was Al who responded. "He's in charge of our spending, brother. He has to monitor it, under policy. He knows what you buy, when and where…" Al lifted his head. "There are no records of you dinning at restaurants."

Edward visibly tensed again. Mouth slightly agape, he looked towards a glaring Roy, then back towards Al. "Alphonse, come on." He laughed lightly. "You can't possibly believe I'm starving myself, right? I mean, I'm human. I'd be dead-"

Roy interrupted. "Which is why I believe you've been going to the cafeteria,"

Edward cut him off with quick nods. "Yeah! Yeah, Al, see? I've been going to the cafeteria. Nothing to worry about-"

" _ **Only,**_ " Roy interrupted again. "With the time you spend purchasing books, and at the dorm, I don't see how anything more than grabbing an apple on the way would have been possible." He shifted in his seat. "Tell me, Fullmetal, if I go check the libraries sign-in records, would your times correlate with your story?"

After a moment of stillness, Edward eventually slumped, looking towards his covered feet, defeated. "This isn't fair, you two ganging up on me like this."

Roy slammed his hands against the arm rests, ignoring the way it made Ed visibly jump. "Dammit, Fullmetal!" He snapped, pushing himself to a stand. "Can't you see we're worried about you?! Can't you _understand_ that **_I'm_** worried about you?!" He yelled, resting a hand against his chest. "I mean, look at me. No five o'clock shadow, still wearing my uniform covered in _your_ blood. I haven't gone home to change, or rest, because I've been out there, for hours, concerned about you!"

At first, this seemed to sink into Edwards hard exterior, as his face seemed to fall. But then he collected himself, and instead glared. "Sorry for taking so much of your frikin time."

Roy sighed, annoyed. "That's not what this is about."

"Sure sounds like it."

"Brother!"

"What Al?!" Ed now glared at the suit of armor. "It clearly is all about him! Everything's my fault, and it always imposes on _**his**_ time! It's always **_my_** fault, isn't it?!" He glared towards Roy, but not in time to catch that the man had moved towards him.

A loud slap echoed within the room, and Roy quickly grabbed at the teens hospital patient scrub collar. "Get a damn hold of yourself Edward!" He grit his teeth. "I'm not blaming you for being smart, or motivated, or brave! You don't even realize how **proud** I am of you! How **proud** I am to be in charge of you-"

"Yeah," Ed seethed with narrowed eyes. "For that sweet promotion right? _Reeling in the prodigy_."

"No!" Roy shouted. "Because **I care about you**! Because to me, you and Al are like family! And to watch you succeed, and carry on forward when you fail, is something that **I'm proud** of!" He shook Ed by the collar again when the boy seemed stunned. "And I am genuinely worried and frightened when you pull stupid stunts like this! Child prodigy Alchemist or not, you're still human! And we have our limits!" He neared Edwards face. "So do you really expect me to watch you wither away, while I just sit by and do **nothing**?!"

A thick silence blanketed the room, all three held in their positions, as if frozen in time.

Ed's stunned expression, however, slowly fell, and became a small glare. "Let go of me." He demanded, though gently, as he reached up to grab hold of Roy's hand with his flesh hand, pulling the grip off his collar.

Roy took a few steps back, as Al silently watched, not moving, as they watched Ed massage the front of his neck, looking away, eyes scanning the room as in thought.

"-ght…" Ed mumbled, reluctantly.

Al neared the bed, leaning in to hear better. "Brother, did you say something?"

Edward suddenly turned. "I said 'alright'!" He shouted, seemingly glaring, though a slight blush crept onto his cheeks. He calmed himself, leaning back into the bed, pouting pitifully. "I'll try to-"

Roy took a step forward. "No, not 'try'. You will-"

"Ok, ok! I will!" He glared, annoyed. "I **will** get better. There, happy?"

Roy just kept his gaze locked on the boys golden orbs, now full of life and that determined spark he recognized years ago. A small smile tugged at his lips, and he gave a small nod.

No one moved or said anything for a long moment.

Ed suddenly yawned as he further pushed himself into the mattress. "I'm feeling kinda tired right now."

Al nodded. "You just came out of surgery, it's a surprise you even lasted this long." He paused, a small, genuine, chuckle echoing within his suit of armor. "But you've always been quite stubborn."

Roy stepped forward, standing next to the bed. Slowly, he reached up and rested a hand on the boys shoulder, then, without hesitation or warning, rested his flat palm on the teens forehead, mindful of the bruises around, and butterfly stitches on, the head wound, smiling gently. "Sleep, Edward. We'll be here when you wake up."

Though seemingly stoic, Edward kept his surprise well hidden.

But he made no noise, or movement, of resistance against the paternal gesture.

Instead, he kept his golden eyes on Roy's onyx orbs, as the warmth of the mans hand seemed to lull him to sleep.

Edward's eyes slowly closed, focused on Roy, as if making sure that the man would keep his word.

* * *

After what, he assumed, was a long rest, Edward opened his eyes, slowly blinking them open, head turned in the direction on the seats Roy and Al occupied.

Just like Roy said, they were both there.

The man, now sleeping had changed into a clean pair of uniform, shaved and hair washed. Edward realized that he must have been asleep for more than a whole day.

Al sat silently, immersed in one of the books Ed had recently purchased.

Ed made no gesture to make his state of consciousness noticed. Instead, he watched, silently, as Roy slept, and Al read.

It wasn't much but, Ed smiled, it was as close to family as he felt he like he was going to get.

And at that moment, watching them, he couldn't ask for more.

* * *

A/N- OK, so, now it's almost 1pm. I've been typing this since 5am, so I apologize for any typos (EDIT: I fixed as much as I could currently spot).

THIS… THING, was actually going to be a simple one shot about Edward having a stomach ulcer. Instead it turned into this mess of drama and angst goo that just kept going.

It really wasn't going to be so in-depth. I apologize if my medical jargon was off. My visions foggy from lack of sleep, and I was trying to get through that as quick as possible, to move on with the story.

Regardless, I hope you enjoyed. I know the FMA fandom is kinda dying out, but here's to hoping you angst families stand strong (and write more angst).

Thanks for reading, I'm going to sleep now!

P.S- If you didn't really catch on, the title is rather ironic. In the fic, Edward asks Roy 'Why does it hurt?', to which neither have the answer until the very end. Which was basically, he was in such a state because of his own carelessness, but he didn't realize. So this fic is also an answer to the titles question.  
Also, it's a **'trigger' warning** in concerns to eating disorders filed under **EDNOS** (Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified). Though it wasn't intentional in motives concerning Ed's weight, the starvation was through act of guilt.


End file.
